Forbidden Passion Read online

  “I have a sister. But she doesn’t look anything like me.”

  “Ah. Then this isn’t she.”

  “Are you pulling my leg?” Sonja’s voice was sharp. “What’s all this about? If you were hoping to beg my forgiveness: it’s too late. I’m not backing down. What I said before stands. You of all people ought to know that. We’ve worked together long enough. I made one single exception, but it wasn’t worth it, as it turned out and I will never do that again. I should’ve known, Kim. Jealousy is jealousy; no one can just set that aside, no matter what promises they make.”

  “I know.” Kim felt like a scolded child. Sonja was right. “Sonja . . .” She swallowed. “Don’t you think we ought to talk once more? I agree that I made a mistake. And I promise you, when you meet Sandra, everything will change.”

  Sonja would have to admit that Kim hadn’t really made a mistake, she’d just misinterpreted the facts – at least, she hoped so – but what else could she have done?

  Sonja laughed dryly. “You’re really pulling out all the stops!” Again, Kim heard her take a deep breath. “This woman you claim looks so much like me doesn’t exist. You made her up to have an excuse to call me. But you’re not catching me in that trap. I’m not falling for it. And now I need you to leave me alone!”

  Although Kim didn’t hear the crash, she was sure that Sonja’s telephone receiver had been severely mistreated in the course of hanging up.

  She hung up her receiver much more gently. If she called “Sandra” right back, she could ask Jo later whether Sonja had picked up. But no, that was silly. What good would it do? If Sonja didn’t want to admit that she was Sandra, she could always come up with an explanation.

  She scrolled through her caller ID for Sandra’s number and pressed the button to call her back. We’ll just see what happens now.

  It rang a couple of times before Sandra picked up. “Kruschewski?”

  She really had this down pat.

  “Lunch at twelve o’clock?” Kim asked.

  “You asked Sonja?” Sandra seemed pleased.

  “Yes, I did.” That, at least, wasn’t a lie, but Sandra knew perfectly well that she’d refused. Why didn’t she say anything? If Sandra came and Sonja didn’t, the fraud would be exposed. Did she want to let it come down to that? What did she hope to achieve by that?

  “Great,” Sandra said. “Where should we meet?”

  “Why not right in front of the cafeteria? Do you know where that is?”

  Sandra claimed not to know, so Kim explained it to her as though she believed her. “Twelve o’clock sharp,” Kim said. “That’s important.”

  “Oh, no problem.” Sandra laughed. “I always get hungry at that time.”

  Yeah, I know, Kim thought. Aloud, she said, “Then I’ll see you in front of the entrance at noon.”

  “See you then.” Sandra hung up.

  Kim shook her head. Sonja really wanted to bring matters to a head. As Sonja, she refused, but as Sandra, she agreed? What was the point of that?

  ~*~*~*~

  It wasn’t quite twelve o’clock yet when Kim arrived outside the cafeteria. Neither Sonja nor Sandra – ha . . . neither! – was there. Fine, maybe Sonja wouldn’t come, either as Sandra or as Sonja. She could simply sidestep the problem.

  Or she could choose one of the two, then leave, and come back as the other. Everyone knew that slapstick comedy routine. Kim was curious about how Sonja would play it.

  “Am I on time?”

  Sonja came as Sandra? Kim hadn’t actually expected that. She looked at the smiling face that wasn’t supposed to be Sonja’s.

  “Absolutely,” Kim answered. “I expected you to be on time, you’ve always been –” No, she couldn’t say that. She knew nothing about Sandra’s punctuality, only Sonja’s.

  Sandra looked around. “Sonja isn’t here yet?”

  How long was she going to keep playing this game? Kim shook her head. She knew full well that an encounter was impossible.

  “Then we’ll just wait.” Sandra laughed. “Although my stomach is growling already! I open the supermarket every day at seven, but I have to be there by six, or sometimes even earlier, for deliveries.”

  “Do you.” Kim gave her a dubious look. Sonja was constructing an entire, around-the-clock life for Sandra. Why? Kim was about to open her mouth to say something when Sandra suddenly grinned.

  “Well, how about that.” She was looking over Kim’s shoulder. “She doesn’t look quite exactly like me, though. I think you were exaggerating.”

  Kim stared at her. She couldn’t be serious. Kim stood with her back to the main office building, and if she were to turn around now . . . Slowly, she turned her head, then her shoulder, so as not to lose Sandra out of the corner of her eye. Her mouth hung open. Sonja. She was wearing a business suit. Kim turned her head back. Sandra wore jeans.

  Kim turned far enough to get Sonja, who was approaching, in the same view as Sandra, who stood next to her. This couldn’t be true!

  Sonja was looking down at the ground; she hadn’t noticed Kim and Sandra yet, but the moment she looked up –

  She did so, took two more hesitant steps, paused, and stood still.

  Kim looked at her, pointed at Sandra, and shrugged.

  Sonja shook herself and walked onward. The closer she came, the more astonished Kim felt to look at her. Again and again, she glanced back at Sandra, then turned her gaze back again, and she couldn’t shut her mouth.

  Sonja had reached them. It seemed like she was going to walk past Kim and Sandra, but Sandra spoke to her, smiling: “Pleased to meet you, Sonja.”

  Sonja didn’t look at Sandra, though, but at Kim. “So, you weren’t lying. How long did you search to dig her up?”

  Kim gasped. This was too much at once. “I . . . I . . .”

  “It was more of a coincidence,” Sandra answered in Kim’s place. She seemed mildly confused. “I only recently moved to the area.”

  Sonja shifted her attention and looked at Sandra. “Who are you?” Her eyebrows knit reluctantly together.

  “Sandra Kruschewski.” Sandra offered her hand. “And I’m just as surprised as you are, Sonja . . .” She laughed. “I’m sorry, but since Kim has mentioned you so often and we look so much alike, do you mind being on a first-name basis?”

  Sonja ignored Sandra’s hand for several seconds. “Kruschewski?” Her brow furrowed in disbelief.

  Sandra withdrew her hand. “Yes, that’s my name.”

  “Coincidences happen.” Sonja looked at Kim once more. “Or is this not a coincidence at all?”

  “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re trying to insinuate.” Kim still hadn’t gotten used to the sight. Sonja, doubled. Sure, they were dressed differently, and that decreased the resemblance somewhat, but otherwise –

  “You’re familiar with my personnel file,” Sonja said. “Did you base this little comedy on that?” She let out a dismissive sound. “It’s quite a nasty joke, I must say. I never would’ve thought you capable of this much viciousness.” She gave Kim a furious glare. “But apparently, I’ve been mistaken about you from the very beginning.”

  “Whoa, hello!” Sandra raised her hands. “You two are awfully dramatic. Too dramatic for me.” She looked at Sonja. “I would have liked to get to know you better, Sonja, but I’m not getting involved in this fight. I might happen to look like you, but I have nothing to do with this.” She shook her head. “You really ought to talk to each other, you two. Something is obviously very wrong here. I’ll say my farewells. I think I’d rather eat at home.” She turned around and started to walk away.

  “Sandra!” Kim called her name helplessly.

  Sandra turned around. “Talk to each other. This is awful, the way you’re treating each other. I have no desire to get caught in the middle of that.” She left for good.

  Kim turned back to face Sonja. “I . . . I have no idea what to say.”

  “Respect.” The corners of Sonja’s lips curled in contempt. “You
went to considerable lengths just to talk to me. But I’m not buying it. We have nothing more to say.” She headed for the cafeteria’s entrance.

  “I’m not –” Kim ran after her. “I’m not going to great lengths, at least not in this case. I saw Sandra coincidentally on the street and I thought she was you. I still can’t believe she isn’t you. Until just now, I thought –”

  “Please, leave me alone. At least let me eat in peace.” Sonja stood still and looked at her. “I really don’t have the stomach for this little game.”

  “Little game?” Kim shook her head. “Until a moment ago, I thought you were playing games with me. I thought you had invented Sandra.”

  “Invented her? Why would I do that?” Sonja kept walking.

  Kim accompanied her into the managers’ lunchroom. “I had no idea. I wanted to ask you today – or, that is, I thought you would have to give me an explanation, because . . . because you were one and the same person.”

  “One and the same person?” Sonja looked at her in disbelief. Then she shook her head. “The ideas you come up with . . .” She sat down at the table that had so often been theirs together.

  “Shall we eat together?” Kim asked, still standing. “I’m just plain confused. You look so much alike, you and Sandra. But obviously you don’t know each other.”

  Sonja looked up at her. “We really do look alike,” she admitted. She sighed. “Fine, let’s eat together. You can explain how you happened upon her. But I’m not discussing anything else with you.”

  “I accept.” Kim sat down. “How I happened upon her, you already know. I saw her on the street, and because I thought she was you, I spoke to her. She thought I was stalking her.” She laughed softly. Even though everything wasn’t cleared up yet, at least Sonja hadn’t been lying to her. She felt immensely relieved. Even though the similarity between Sandra and Sonja was still quite bewildering.

  Sonja’s lips curled into a hint of a smile. “I would have, too.”

  “Of course. Now, in hindsight –” Kim shook her head. “How must I have looked to her? And it was incomprehensible to me that she claimed not to know me.” She looked at Sonja. “Well, not completely incomprehensible.”

  Sonja arched her eyebrows. The waitress brought her salad, and Kim ordered her own food.

  “Yes, I know,” Kim said, “that subject is off limits. But I saw her several times, and at some point, I figured out that she lived on Michelbergring.”

  “I don’t live on Michelbergring.” Sonja mixed her salad dressing. “You know that.”

  “Yes, I . . .” Kim cleared her throat. “I thought you might have moved out of your place.”

  Sonja’s fork froze in the middle of tossing her lettuce leaves. After a while, she continued the motion. It looked like a rusty machine coming back to jerky use after a long pause. She said nothing.

  That’s still her sore spot, Kim thought. “Now, of course, I know that it’s Sandra’s apartment and not yours,” she went on. She looked at the door as if Sandra might come in. “When the misunderstanding was cleared up, I told her how much you resemble each other, and that that’s why I confused the two of you. She was intrigued and she wanted to meet you. I told you that much over the phone.”

  “You did not tell me that!” Sonja protested fiercely. “I couldn’t make any sense at all out of your hints and insinuations.”

  “Fine, okay, I get that. After all, I thought that you – it was all just nonsense, what I thought, as it turns out. I’m glad of that.” Kim smiled at Sonja.

  Sonja shook her head, disbelieving. “It certainly is odd how alike we look.”

  “Yes, you two must be related somehow,” Kim said. “Very closely related. I can certainly imagine unrelated people who look similar – all the celebrity look-alikes you ever see aren’t related to the celebrities, after all – but this similar? You really do look like twins.”

  “I think you’re just imagining that. We probably don’t really look all that much alike.”

  “Funny, Sandra said the same thing when she saw you approaching us.” Kim observed Sonja’s face. “I think you see it less clearly than someone else. Too bad Sandra is gone. If you two stood side by side in front of a mirror –”

  “Anything else?” Sonja shook her head once more, but more in disapproval than disbelief this time. “This might be amusing for you, but as you can see, neither Sandra nor I have any interest in deepening our acquaintance.”

  “Sandra does, though,” Kim said.

  “Okay, it’s my fault again.” Sonja sighed. “As always. Really, Kim, this whole caper doesn’t mean a thing, to her or to me. We’re not kids anymore. To a child, it might have been entertaining, but we are grown women with grown-up lives. Separate lives,” she added with emphasis. “What are we supposed to do about our resemblance?”

  “That’s true.” Kim considered Sonja’s face once again, trying to imagine Sandra’s next to it. “If one of you were unemployed, you could share a job.” She laughed.

  As always, Sonja ate her salad leaf by leaf. “What does Sandra do?”

  “She’s a supermarket manager, she said.” Kim was watching Sonja so closely, it was starting to feel a little embarrassing even to her. This story with Sandra was making her doubt her own senses. She needed to convince herself once more that her eyes weren’t deceiving her.

  “Supermarket manager.” Sonja thought about that. “I would never have wanted to work in a supermarket. So the similarity isn’t so great, after all.” She went on eating.

  “Well, it is a management position,” Kim objected. “Maybe not as high as yours, but still, she’s an executive, too.”

  A smirk crept into the corners of Sonja’s mouth. “I try to find differences, you look for similarities. This is silly. Neither of us really knows Sandra. Or do you know her better?” It looked innocent, the way Sonja watched Kim as she asked that question, but Kim had the impression that it wasn’t.

  “No, I don’t know her better. I’ve had exactly one extended conversation with her, in the middle of the night, on the street. She almost called the police.” She laughed once more. “Oh, God . . . it was pitch dark except for a couple of streetlights, not a soul was on the street except for us. Most people were probably asleep already, and there weren’t any cars passing on the Ring. It must’ve been spooky for her.”

  “She obviously survived unharmed,” Sonja remarked dryly. “And your presence doesn’t seem to make her uncomfortable, either.”

  “You’re reading too much into it. She doesn’t know me, and I don’t know her. Everything she told me, she did because she wanted to prove to me that she’s not you.”

  “And you still didn’t believe it.” Sonja leaned back. “What did you think? That I can split myself in two?” She looked directly at Kim.

  “Well . . . no . . . uh . . .” Kim stammered a bit, because it wasn’t actually clear to her what she had thought. Last night, lying in bed, unable to sleep, everything had seemed so clear and unequivocal, but now –

  “You simply assumed that I was deceiving you,” Sonja said. “Some of your comments finally make sense now. I truly couldn’t imagine what you meant.”

  “I know that now.” Kim was embarrassed. She glanced shyly up at Sonja. “I apologize explicitly for that once again. But what would you have done in my place?”

  “I certainly wouldn’t have blamed you for something you hadn’t done.” Sonja propped her elbows on the table and folded her hands. “Definitely not, given the fact that the jealousy issue had almost caused us to break up before.”

  “Yes.” Kim dropped her eyes. “I know.”

  “But with this new information, I can now see what it was all about,” Sonja said. “What happened can’t be taken back. If one little nudge like that is enough for you to accuse me of infidelity –”

  “One little nudge?” Kim looked up. “She looks exactly like you. Exactly. No matter what you two say, on the outside, you’re twins. It was impossible for me to tell you
apart.”

  “A person sees what she wants to see. You could’ve told the difference – if you’d wanted to.”

  Kim dropped her gaze again. Maybe she really could have. Sonja was right. In truth, Kim had been waiting for an event like that to happen. She couldn’t have imagined that Sonja –

  “I admit that my behavior fed into it,” Sonja went on. “I would say we’re done. I don’t want to fight. We had a nice time together, and now . . . now, it’s over, that’s all. Let’s remember the good things and forget about the bad.” She looked at Kim with her eyebrows raised, as if waiting for her agreement.

  How could she simply brush aside everything that had happened between them? Kim stared at her, uncomprehending. “Forget . . .?” she stammered.

  “I knew it wouldn’t last long. In fact, it lasted much longer than I expected. That was a surprise. Every time we met . . . or when we worked together – it was like a gift, always fresh.” Sonja laughed softly. “I haven’t gotten that many gifts in a long time.” Her gaze caressed Kim’s face. “Please, Kim . . . let’s part as friends. Don’t ruin what we had.”

  “Sonja, I . . . I don’t want to part at all. Can’t you see that?” Kim’s eyes begged Sonja for a sign – a sign of hope.

  Sonja sighed. “Yes, I can. But we blew that chance.”

  “I did, you mean.” Kim took a deep breath. “You’re probably right. It’s all my fault.”

  “It’s not a question of fault,” Sonja said. “It was more a question of . . . relationships. Inescapable circumstances. Like the budget I have for the reorganization. It’s got a limit, and everything has to stay within its limits. That’s why I add up figures all night long – and still, I constantly have to amend things. But for human relationships, there are no amendments.”

  That was Sonja, as she lived and breathed. Budgets, amendments, circumstances – a world full of cut-and-dried rules. Rules to which she deferred and rules she tried to satisfy. True, it brought her success in her professional life, but in her private life, it was . . . frustrating. The cost/benefit calculation no longer worked, so the affair was over. She’d look for someone else whose numbers came out better.